


Blue-Grey Silk

by foreverhalffull



Series: Blue-Grey [1]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26923534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverhalffull/pseuds/foreverhalffull
Summary: In my second-ever Strike fic, I mentioned Cormoran gifting Robin a silk dressing gown for her thirty-fifth birthday. Today's celebrations seemed the perfect opportunity to revisit that!
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Blue-Grey [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964494
Comments: 12
Kudos: 28
Collections: Happy Birthday Robin Venetia Ellacott | 2020





	Blue-Grey Silk

Robin was blessed to have started four birthdays with Cormoran Strike.

She could recall no better time period in her life; every day was better for having started curled up beside the bearlike presence of him, but on birthdays in particular he insisted on ringing in the morning with a particular degree of ritual and celebration. It was adorable and loving and generous and so entirely unlike what she’d expected before knowing him beyond the scope of their first partnership. Cormoran Strike was from an altogether different epoque of romance, one of love letters and devotion and chosen tradition.

After the first three celebrations which followed in a reliable though never dull tradition each year, and the shared shower which had been an added, spontaneous bonus, he made her sit on the edge of their bed in her towel.

“I know we normally do presents after work,” he said, “but there’s one that I thought would be more appropriate to gift in the morning.” 

His wrapping skills had improved drastically throughout the years, helped by the lessons she gave him each Christmas. She may have earned herself a break this year, as she could tell he’d wrapped her gift on his own by his choice of paper – a blush colour with a faint, sunsetty cloud pattern she’d pointed out at a shop weeks before – and the fact that he’d tied two separate ribbons, still unable due to his stubby thumbs to manage looping the same ribbon around the parcel twice.

She pulled at the edges carefully, hopeful she’d be able to keep a scrap of the wrapping to tuck under the collection of seven champagne corks she kept in her memory box at the bottom of their wardrobe.

“You don’t have to be quite so gentle, Little One.”

She laughed. “I told you, I’m not that little. It makes me sound like a child!” The nickname was a joke he’d started due to the largeness of her feisty personality.

“You don’t sound like a child. It makes you sound precious, which you are.”

“Oh, Strike.” She brought her left hand to her mouth, the opal on her wedding band casting a glimmer about the room. With her right hand she continued to unwrap the gift, a silk dressing gown in a unique blue grey shade. It was floor length and had a pocket on each panel below the sash. Around the neckline and lapels wove a vinelike ivory embroidery.

“It’s beautiful.”

He lifted it gently from her hands and unfolded it, revealing that the rich fabric extended all of the way to the floor. “I chose it because the colour matches your eyes. And I thought you may like it as you’re getting ready in the mornings, or when we’re working late at the dining table or watching the telly, so you don’t have to try to keep your blanket from falling down your shoulders.” 

She stood and kissed his lips gently. “It’s perfect, Strike. And so thoughtful.”

He pulled back from her kiss to gently unravel the twist with which she’d secured her towel. As it fell to the floor, he paid it no mind but instead draped the dressing gown over her shoulders and secured the sash at her waist with a lopsided bow.

“Just like you. Only the best for the best I’ve got.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, scrunching his nose at its contact with the coolness of her damp hair. “Happy birthday, Ellacott.”


End file.
